


Out of Reach

by glowwwworm



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowwwworm/pseuds/glowwwworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hailing from Ostwick, Mabel Trevelyan was destined for the Chantry. Her parents had sent her amidst some local scandal, to clear her name and to devote her life to the Maker. At least that was the plan. Upon arriving at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Mabel was cast as the leading role in a battle she hadn't wanted any part in. With the mark on her hand, Mabel began fighting for the greater good of Thedas and making alliances with important diplomats and making herself into the Chantry’s enemy number one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going for more of a vignette style here, not following along directly with the game's pace.

  Everything hurt; her muscles, her head, even her hair. Mabel Trevelyan had newly been named the Herald of Andraste. Since then, the rogue had been training every hour of every day she wasn't traveling. In part because she felt her dagger skills had been lacking, and in part because the Commander was- well -irresistible. Seeing him order his soldiers with such confidence was refreshing. Other times he seemed unsure of himself, but his military skills were something he certainly was sure of.

  
  Mabel began undoing the long plaits in her hair, hell bent on bathing even if it meant using cold water. The layer of grime she felt on herself was unpleasant. Sloughing off dirt, sweat, and blood began to tint the water a murky shade of brown. This certainly was far from the upbringing she had in the Free Marches, but maybe that was for the best. She was accustomed to fine silks and water the was drawn for her, granted she could probably ask for some assistance in the matter, but that didn't seem like something the _Herald_ would stoop too. Cold water would have to suffice. Besides, Mabel felt it refreshing. As she dried her face, she noticed the letter her parents had sent her with when she left home. The next thing she knew, she was ripping the letter apart and throwing the pieces in the dying fire.

  
_I won't let this hinder me anymore._

  
  Without realizing it, tears started to roll silently. Wiping them out of her eyes, Mabel shoved her feet into her boots and went outside. Haven was quietly buzzing with murmurs and the crackles from various fires, and the sky was so clear.  
“Herald?”

  
  Mabel jumped nearly a foot into the air and turned to see the Commander, “I don't remember assigning you to patrol.” He stepped closer so the torch he was holding illuminated his face.

  “Oh, you didn't. I was  just getting some air.” Mabel could feel her heart rate returning to normal. “It's quiet out here at night, I'm not so used to it.” She began to gaze around at the empty stalls and the deserted tavern.

  
   “Is everything alright?” He asked. Mabel hadn't realized that she was panting.

  
   “Oh, yes, you just startled me.”  
  
   “My apologies, Herald. Good night,” he replied beginning to turn away.  


   “Mabel.”  


   “Excuse me?”  


   “Call me Mabel, it is my name after all.”  


   She wasn't quite sure if she was seeing things or not, but it appeared as if a small smirk lifted to corners of the Commanders mouth, “okay, goodnight Mabel.”


	2. Moving Day

_Dodge. Lunge. Strike. Dodge. Fall back. Roll. Strike. Fall back. Dodge. Strike. Lunge. Fall back._

Mabel could hear Cullen’s orders while she organized the trek to close the rift that had steadily been growing over Haven.

_You're wide open! Pay attention! Utilize your shield! You don't carry it because it looks pretty!_

Unsure of what would exactly happen after the rift was closed, Mabel was uneasy. Hopefully, she had enough man power, and confidence in herself, to end this all tonight – she wouldn't tell anyone she was doubtful though. This was bigger than all of them, although Cassandra may have difficulty coming to terms with it.

_Careful not to let your guard down! Head up! Eyes in front! Strike. Parry. Dodge. Tuck and roll!_

Her team of supporters had grown; Varric, Dorian, the Iron Bull, Blackwall, Cole, Sera, and Solas. Not to mention all the people she came across that actually believed she was the Herald of Andraste.

_Alright, that's it for now. Eat and drink. We don't know what's ahead of us._

* * *

  
“ **If I’m dying, it's not today!** ”

“Wait, you actually said that? Those words came out of your mouth?”

Mabel had finally thawed off around the fire, Haven was destroyed. They were camping somewhere in the mountains. Mabel was recounting her story to those who wanted to listen – Dorian, Cullen, Cassandra, and Varric surrounded her. Varric and Dorian found humor in Mabel’s story so far.

“I did, I suppose it’s a tad lame.” Mabel flushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Remind me to use that line for my next book,” Varric teased.

“We are all grateful for what you did and what you continue to do,” Cullen practically shouted.

“Whoa there, Curly. We only jest. Blondie here saved our skins, and now she’s leading us to that huge keep,” Varric thumbed behind him to the castle they had been making their way to the past few days. Solas called it Skyhold, and Mabel was leading the small team to it.

“I don't find it humorous to mock ones accomplishments in battle,” Cullen shot back, warming his hands and strangely avoiding Mabel’s gaze.

“Thank you, Commander.” Mabel flushed a little and continued to fill them in on everything that had happened while they were separated.

“Well, dear, it sounds as if you could use a drink.” Dorian passed a chipped mug to Mabel. Just as soon as she had swallowed, she began sputtering.

“What on earth?” Mabel choked out.

“You don't want to know,” Cassandra answered taking the mug from her, “the Chargers managed to put something together.”

“It's time I turned in, we should reach the castle tomorrow, you all should get some rest as well.” Mabel stood and stretched her stiff limbs, retreating back to her tent. Still in disbelief that so much had happened.


	3. Report

_Inquisitor. Holy shit. This is crazy._

Skyhold was gorgeous, it held everything the Inquisition could possibly need. And the view? Breathtaking. Someone got the crazy idea to name Mabel the Inquisitor – which was absurd. Back home, no one would give her this type of power, this much attention. She was relieved that she hadn't received any correspondence from home, not like she would. She opened Pandora’s box when she left, and was glad to not have the repercussions on her. Looking out the balcony attached to her room and Mabel felt like she was a thousand worlds away.

_No point in dwelling on the past, I need to get out more._

More and more people came each day, as their location became known. Ever since then, Cullen had been well, commanding. Mabel watched him for a little, his voice strict and certain, never second guessing his choices. As she approached him, she began to feel like she had thousands of Nugs running in her stomach. “Commander, do you have a moment? I wanted to see how you were doing, since…Haven.”

“It's not easy, thinking of the people who didn't make it.” Cullen paused and looked down at his feet, “but look at this place. It may need some structural work, but it’s a military dream. We will be safe here.” Cullen paused and looked up at Mabel, “you will be safe here.”

Mabel nodded and headed towards the War Room to check in with Josephine,

“You stayed behind…” Cullen began, grabbing Mabel’s arm. “You could have...I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again, you have my word.”   
Mabel flushed, the type of man Cullen was, he was not the type to make a promise he hadn't intended to keep. And the contact hadn’t gone unnoticed either. It was the first time Mabel felt his grip; strong without hurting, warm but not sweaty. Suffice to say, it was just right, he was just right.

“Commander! A troupe has just arrived wanting to enlist.” One of Cullen’s men shouted from the gate. He turned his back to Mabel and began walking back towards his post, turning quickly he added, “I am thankful nothing happened to you.”

Before Mabel could respond, the Commander was already back at the gate, arranging quarters, rations, and equipment for the men that had just arrived. She felt a warmth growing inside h, maybe the Nugs had decided to rest and start a fire.

_Things are turning around. Not all men are terrible. Just the ones I call family._

* * *

 

  
“Ah, Inquisitor,” Josephine looked up from her desk and smiled, “I’m glad you are here, I have a few things I need to discuss with you.” Mabel plopped down in front of Josephine’s behemoth desk. Mabel remembered helping Bull pull the desk up two flights of stairs from the basement. It clearly hadn't been touched since the last owners of Skyhold had vacated, but for everything Josie did for the Inquisition, and for Mabel, she certainly deserved a nice piece of furniture if she was to be spending most of her time there.

“How can I be of help?”

“Well, we must get a throne, decide on décor, and I believe Leliana has mentioned something about falling behind on your reports?”

Mabel blushed and looked down, “yes, I suppose I should get to all the formal paperwork. But, what's this about a throne?” Mabel felt silly discussing frivolous things like this, it wasn't her style. “My Mother would be having a field day right now,” she muttered.

“If someone was to show up to Skyhold while it was in this state of disrepair, it would be a nightmare!” Josephine declared. “We have a certain image to uphold, not to mention there is the task of sentencing, promotions, and other affairs that you need to address both publicly and privately.”

“And we need a throne for that? There are plenty of chairs around, I’m sure we could find one suitable,” Mabel suggested. She began to realize the gravity of her new title – how on earth could she make important decisions like how some prisoner would serve for his war crimes, it was almost absurd to her.

“Mabel, it’s all about image, especially when it comes to nobels. I happen to know that there is a female baroness who has been relentlessnessly inquiring about Commander Cullen.”

Mabel sputtered and felt something—similar to jealously—swell inside of her, “what could she possibly want with Cullen? I believe he’s too busy to bother himself with the likes of some hussy, do not even approach him with these details.”

Josephine looked up at Mabel with a smirk playing across her mouth, “do I sense some jealously?”

“No, what you sense is hostility – we are waging a war here. I cannot afford for my best military leader to be distracted with the likes of some girl he’s never even met. End of discussion.” Mabel was quite sure that she had driven her point home – Cullen was off limits.

_I don't see what he would want with a frilly girl anyhow, he needs a real woman._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome! Trying to figure out if I'm moving too fast or not.


	4. Fire Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! School is getting really intense!

  The rain was pouring out of the sky and every so often lightning would ripple through the curtains and illuminate crooked shadows in Mabel’s room. The wind was blowing so hard that the doors to her balcony were straining against the hinges. Pulling the blankets tighter around her, she cursed herself for not finding some firewood, it was all probably soaked by now. As the final embers died out in the hearth, Mabel gathered her blankets and a pillow and went to find somewhere warmer. The trouble with that was there were very few places in a drafty old fortress that could be qualified as warm. She briefly considered finding Iron Bull and using his body heat to stay warm, but the idea of Bull’s morning breath slightly repulsed her. The floor was ice, and when she stepped, the stones sucked any warmth out of her. The barn seemed like the best choice, but walking all the way down there was more of a hassle, not to mention she would be soaked to the bone and it would take longer for her to warm up and dry off.  
Mabel pushed open the large doors to the War Room, the large table and the statues that stood behind it seemed ominous in the near dark. She was thankful that whoever was here last left the fire somewhat burning. Mabel threw a few logs on and hunkered down, pulling the lonely chair in the corner to the center of the fire.

* * *

 

  Cullen was woken by something wet and cold. He blinked his eyes open to realize that it had begun to rain, hard. Realizing now that it should have been higher on his list to fix the gaping hole in his roof, Cullen quickly retreated to the covered corner. Perhaps the open roof was only nice to fall asleep under when the weather forecast didn't call for rain. He quickly stripped out of his wet clothes, put on dry undershorts, and wrapped himself in his only dry blanket. Racking his brain of where he could get warm quickly, Cullen remembered leaving a few embers burning in the fireplace in the War Room, quickly stuffing his feet into boots, the he made a makeshift hood with his blanket and dashed out the door and towards the foyer of the castle. He was sure most of the Inquisition was asleep, chancing an awkward encounter if he ran into anyone in only his dress clothes. Thankfully, no one crossed his path as he reached the corridor that reached to the room. Silently thanking the Maker, Cullen dropped his blanket and quickly stepped into the warm room. The fire was going, and quite well at that. Cullen padded quietly over towards the fire to add another log when a streak of lightning illuminated the room. When Cullen came face to face with a disheveled Inquisitor, he dropped the log he had picked up and tried to cover as much of himself as possible with his hands.

  Cullen could feel his cheeks flare red, “neither was I! I am so sorry, Inquisitor-uh, Mabel. I should have knocked before I came in. But, I mean, at this hour, I wasn’t expecting – I am so sorry.” Cullen had no control over the torrent of words that came from his mouth, feeling the heat from the fire burning into his exposed flesh. Cullen picked up a discarded blanket from the floor and draped it around his shoulders, covering himself to the best of his ability.  
   
   “There’s no need to apologize,” Mabel said quickly. “I’ll return to my quarters, you can stay the night.”  
  
   Mabel began to gather the blankets and pills she had brought down from her room, trying to avoid the half dressed Commander that was standing in front of her. But, my goodness, he was something to admire.  
  
   “No, I can’t let you do that. I won’t put a lady out, especially not in the cold this storm as brought on.” Cullen tried to stop Mabel from gathering her blankets, but only succeeded in dropping his own blanket and exposing his bare chest once again.  
  
   “Cullen, you are lacking the basic amenities, like a roof, in your own quarters. Please, stay here. I will certainly survive.” Mabel averted her gaze from Cullen’s chest down to the floor.  
  
   “As if I don’t spend enough time in this room already,” Cullen began. “I insist, you stay.”  
  
   Mabel chuckled, “this isn’t debatable, _Commander_. The _Inquisitor commands_ that you stay the night here. Just let me steal a few logs from the pile.”  
  
   “Here, let me carry them back to your room for you.” Cullen offered, gathering a few of the thicker logs.  
  
   “I appreciate the offer, but I think it might be a little difficult for you to carry a load of wood and keep yourself covered with that ratty blanket of yours,” Mabel pointed out, taking the wood from his arms. Mabel left the thicker of her two blankets on the chair for Cullen, gathering the logs and her belongings. “If you don’t mind getting the door?”  
  
   Cullen smiled sheepishly and followed Mabel to the door.  
  
   “Good night, Commander.” Mabel said, looking over her shoulder at the shirtless Commander, hopefully saving the image in her mind.  
  
   “Good night, Inquisitor,” came his reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wondered what Cullen did when the weather was bad, I mean, a hole in his roof? Did no one think to fix that for him?


	5. Dear Inquisitor

After Mabel’s impromptu meeting with a half-clothed Commander, she retreated quickly to her room; gripping the logs she had pilfered from the War Room tightly. Not only was her room frigid, there was the nagging presence of the letter that laid on her desk. A courier had delivered it shortly before the storm raged out of control. Mabel had yet to open it, but could tell from the handwriting on the envelope who it was from.

Mabel’s mother Florence had reacted positively to the news of Mabel’s new title. Naturally, Mabel knew her mother was just using this new political position for her own gain.

Mabel reached for the letter reluctantly, unable to resist the growing urge to open it. It was penned neatly, on the Trevelyan’s best parchment, something her mother saved for business.

            _My Dearest Mabel,_

_News has reached home of the tragic events at Haven and your amazing new title. I hope this letter finds you better than you were when you left home. Your father and I wish to extend our most sincere congratulations on your accomplishment. This was more than we had hope for from you when we had arranged your service at the Chantry. I truly hope you remember your roots now that you have grown to such a high position; perhaps there is a place for your only brother in the Inquisition. A liaison perhaps? Edmund is the heir to the Trevelyan legacy, after all. He will be the one to carry our noble name forward, we never had expectations for you to settle down with a decent man._

_Please send word back once you have secured a title for your brother, we eagerly await your reply._

_Oh, and please, Dear, do not go spreading that hellacious lie around Thedas like you had around Ostwick. It is time to mature._

_Your Beloved Mother_

Mabel crumpled the letter and tossed the ball aside, this was the type of attitude that made Mabel’s blood boil. Both her mother and father always took advantage of the opportunity to exploit a family member to garner publicity. Naturally, she had expected this. But there was no way Mabel would allow her older brother to join the Inquisition. The whole reason she was at the Conclave was so she could escape them; _him_. There was no way she would allow Edmund to spoil another part of her life.


	6. Nightmare

“Mabel, _hold still.”_

Pain shot through Mabel’s arm as she twisted herself in all kinds of directions; trying to break free. Her eyes were shut tightly, spots and stars danced into view and she knew she was near passing out.

“ _I said, HOLD STILL_ ,” he yelled, ripping her dress from the neck, “look what you made me do!”

Her brother, Edmund, yanked Mabel backwards, causing her to fall. Her brother stood over her with scraps of her dress in his hands, holding it over her menacingly. Pushing her skirt up, he gripped her waist tightly and grunted until he freed her underclothes from her. Mabel squeezed her eyes shut again, this time praying her the blackness to overtake her until her brother was done.

* * *

 

The storm seemed to permanently cloud over Skyhold for the remainder of the day, Iron Bull claimed it had followed them back from their recent trip to Crestwood. When Mabel finally woke up, she was stiff from sleeping in front of the hearth in her quarters.

The crumpled note from her mother lay teasingly in front of her; she knew it was the purpose for her dream. As she pushed herself off the ground, she remembered her run-in with the Commander only a few hours prior. A warmth spread from within when she recalled his bare chest.

“Well, dear, you certainly look like you lost sleep last night. For any good reason, may I ask?” Mabel looked up to find Dorian at the top of the staircase.

“Quite nice of you to knock, my friend.” Mabel gathered the blankets around her and stood to face Dorian, trying to cover herself.

“Oh, dear, trust me, I’m not peeping at anything. Unless you’re hiding a rather thick secret about yourself under your dress clothes,” Dorian shot back, glancing at Mabel’s waist. She gaped for a moment, then blushed, and then let the blankets fall; turning to dig through her trunk for clean clothes.

“I swear, I really do learn something new every day.”

“I came to check in on you after your noticeable absence from breakfast,” Dorian moved further into the room, fingering the tapestries hanging from the ceiling.

“My fire went out at some point last night; it took me quite some time to find more wood.” Mabel dressed herself quickly, missing a few buttons here and there. “However, I ran into the Commander on my travels.” Mabel wasn’t sure why she was telling Dorian this, but she knew he would be riveted by her story. By the end of her account, Dorian’s mouth sported a sprawling grin, almost as if he was drooling.

“What I would give to find a man like that in a position like that,” he chuckled, turning to look out the windows at the storm. He bent down, however, when he kicked a wadded-up ball across the floor. Mabel looked up and grabbed the note that skittered across the floor towards her, quickly tossing it on the embers in the hearth. Dorian looked up, puzzled, but didn’t bother with his inquiry when Mabel quickly nodded her head.

Now that Mabel had successfully laced her boots, she beckoned for Dorian to follow her down to the great hall of the castle, “Dorian, let’s see what kind of trouble we can cause on a rainy day.”


	7. Small Talk

Mabel found herself wandering through the training yards when another courier had managed to catch up with her. “Excuse me, Inquisitor? Letter for you.”

Mabel curiously took the small envelope from the letter carrier, tossing him a few coins, before turning back to examine the seal on the back. Not recognizing the crest, she opened the letter quickly; but as soon as she noticed the scrawl across the page, her blood froze.

            _My dearest little sister,_

_I trust you got Mother’s letter alerting you of my departure. Fascinating stuff, your new title you got there. I’ve only left home a few days ago, but I appear to be making rather good time and should find myself in Skyhold before the bitter cold sets in. Although, I shan’t imagine that any place that would worship you so openly would be anything less than a dump. But, lets save the small talk until I see you again._

_How I’ve ached to see you again. Dear sister._

_With love,_

_Edmund_

Mabel shoved the letter back into its envelope, tossing into a nearby fire as she stalked by. She realized there was no stopping him, now that he’s left home with their Mother’s blessing. Racking her brain on what to tell Josephine when that jack heel showed up with a full banner, Mabel began to roam around the grounds aimlessly.

“Inquisitor!”

Mabel jumped and snapped herself out of the fog she was in, having found herself walking through the gardens. She stumbled upon Cullen, Dorian, and a rather sad game of chess.

“Does this mean I win?” Dorian asked mockingly, a smile playing across his lips as he watched Cullen eagerly jump from his chair.

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account,” she smiled.

Cullen smirked, sat back down, and glanced over the board. Furrowing his brow, he rested his chin on his hands. “Alright, your move.”

“Commander,” Dorian teased, “you need to accept my inevitable victory.”

“Really?” Cullen cocked an eyebrow. He moved two pieces and laughed, “because I just won.”

Cullen sat back in his chair with a smile spread across his lips. The small scar on us upper lip turning white.

“Don’t get smart,” Dorian shot back as he stood up, “there simply will be no living with you.” Dorian shook and chuckled his head as he lightly walked away.

Cullen looked up at Mabel with a smile in his eyes, “I should return to my duties as well…unless…you would care for a game?” He questioned, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

Mabel smirked, took her seat opposite Cullen, “prepare the board, _Commander_.”

As Cullen began to reset the board, his eyes got distant, “As a child, I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck up grin whenever she won.” Cullen laughed lightly to himself, “which was, well, all the time.” He paused and looked up at Mabel, “my brother and I practiced together for weeks, and the look on her face when I finally won.” A massive smile was now spread over Cullen’s face, stretching his small scar again. His face fell slightly, “between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen them in years…I wonder if she still plays.”

Mabel looked up at the Commander, “you have siblings?” She asked, weary of the question turning on her as well.

“Two sisters and a brother,” he chuckled.

“Where are they now?” Mabel asked, moving her first pawn.

Cullen took a sharp breath in, “they moved to South Reach after the Blight.” He looked down at his own pieces, “I confess I do not write to them as often as I should.” Moving his pawn, he looked back up at Mabel expectantly.

“Alright then,” Mabel smirked, moving another pawn, “let us see what you’ve got.”

“Inquisitor? How about you? Do you have a large family?” He surveyed the board and moved another piece thoughtfully.

“Not quite.” She quickly responded, pretending to contemplate her next move. When she realized Cullen was expecting something more of an answer, she moved her piece and looked back up at him, “just an older brother. He’s…travelling here from Ostwick.” Mabel felt a small pang in her chest thinking about Edmund.

Cullen met her eyes, an eyebrow cocked and his head titled, “he’s coming _here_? To Skyhold?”

“Yes, but, I believe it’s your move, Commander.” She began trying to steer the conversation away from her brother.

“I wonder what Josephine’s reaction will be, she’s been itching to find out more about your family,” Cullen laughed.

“Yes, well, we’ll cross that bridge when it comes. Edmund and I never got along very well,” Mabel felt her cheeks flush and looked back toward the board.

“A little sibling rivalry?” Cullen asked lightly, unaware of the magnitude of the topic for Mabel.

“More like sibling hatred, but that’s unimportant,” she said quickly. Moving another pawn.

Cullen sat back and moved another pawn, “this may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition, or related matters.” He smiled wide, “to be completely honest, I appreciate the distraction.”

Mabel smiled back at Cullen, partly grateful for the change in conversation, “As do I. We should spend more time together…outside of the War Room.”

Mabel thought she saw a slight hint of red brushing across Cullen’s cheeks, “I would like that.” He beamed back at Mabel, locking eyes with her.

Mabel felt her mouth dry and stuttered, “me too.” Was all she could manage.

Cullen chuckled, “yes. I do believe you just said that.” She was suddenly quite aware of herself and busied her hands with fixing the plaits in her hair when she looked back up at Cullen to see him smiling into his lap, “we should, uh, finish our game. Right? My turn?”

Mabel focused back on her pawns and moved another piece. After several minutes of concentrated silence, Cullen leaned back in his chair, “well, I believe this one is yours.” He stretched his arms above his head, “however, I should be due a rematch in the future.” Cullen smiled at Mabel and quickly stood up, stepping out to push his chair in.

“Yes, I believe that can be rearranged,” Mabel smiled as she cleaned off the board, avoiding Cullen’s gaze before he walked away.


	8. Preparations

Mabel watched Cullen disappear behind the door to the Great Hall and leaned back in her chair, her mind coming back to the impending doom that was sure to follow her brother’s arrival. Well, perhaps _doom_ was too strong of a word. But Edmund was certain to shake things up once he reached Skyhold. Mabel’s only sanctuary from her suffocating family would be infested. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefingers and got up suddenly; determined to speak with Josie before it was too late.

* * *

“Josephine? Do you have a moment?” Mabel found Josie in her office – naturally. She was writing furiously in her ledger about something.

The ambassador looked up, startled. “Oh, I didn’t even hear you come in! Of course, have a seat.” Josephine gestured to a chair opposite her desk. When Mabel sank down into it, she felt like a child back at home. “Is everything all right?” Josephine asked, looking expectantly back at Mabel.

“Not quite. I’ve received news from my older brother, Edmund. He’s actually on his way here, to Skyhold.”

Before Mabel could explain anything else, Josephine smiled greatly, “oh this is wonderful! There are many parties in Orlais that have just been _dying_ for the opportunity to meet someone from your family! We have to throw a proper welcome celebration for him!” Josephine had slammed her ledger shut and opened a smaller roll of parchment, quickly scanning it. “Did he mention when he would be arriving? I can have Leliana’s agents meet him on his way up the mountain pass!”

Mabel gaped slightly, “all he mentioned was he would be here before the frost – I’m unsure of how close he is.”

Josephine quickly began writing, “this is just wonderful! Thank you, Inquisitor, for not leaving this for the _exact_ last moment.” She glanced up at Mabel with a small smirk.

“Is there anything I can do to help prepare?” Mabel asked.

“Maker, no. Just make sure you’re scrubbed properly. And, for the love of Andraste, find Sera a new tunic before his arrival.” Josephine began gathering more parchment and scribbling more notes. Mabel nodded, not like Josephine would have seen here, and silently excused herself from the office.

* * *

“Dorian? Are you busy?” Mabel came upon Dorian in his alcove, quietly scanning the shelves.

“Dear, I’m always busy.” He chuckled, moving to sit on the couch. He gestured for Mabel to join him.

“I need some advice.” She huffed.

“From me?” Dorian was almost laughing.

“Well, you are the only person I know who has a family as dysfunctional as my own. So, yes, from you.” Mabel drew her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. “My _dreadful_ brother is coming. Possibly any day now. Josephine says she’s throwing a massive welcome party for the blighted troll.” Mabel felt, again, like she was back at home. Complaining incessantly about Edmund to her friends.

“Dear, it can’t be that bad. You can rub your fancy new title in your brother’s face, and we get a party out of it!” Dorian leaned back, the sun washing over his face.

“This is a piss-poor time to be partying, considering that we’re in the process of finding the Wardens.” Mabel mumbled to herself.

“Mabel, shape up. I will help run interference if he really is that dreadful. Perhaps we can have Sera throw some bees at the lad?” Dorian suggested teasingly, shooting Mabel a smirk. “Besides, I heard from Leliana that Josephine managed to coordinate the arrival of a potential female suitor for our Commander. Some daughter of some duke in northern Orlais. They have some sort of connection to the Duchess.”

Mabel froze. Jealously – and envy – struck her like lightning. “You have got to be kidding me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to end with a little bit of a cliff hanger. What does everyone think?


	9. Fit For Command

Mabel left Dorian in his alcove, trying to make sense of her reaction to this news about Cullen’s suitor.

_Do I care for Cullen? Well, of course I do. But…in what way? He’s certainly handsome. He has that smile, and those warm eyes. And…well, let’s not go down that road just yet. He’s a damned good warrior, and leader. He’s the Commander. Wouldn’t that be a massive conflict of interest? Wait, what if Cullen has someone back home in Ferelden? He may have met someone in Kirkwall…_

Mabel’s thoughts trailed off when she approached Cullen’s office door. She braced herself, knocked sternly, and then waited for his reply; “It’s open.” He barked from the other side.

Mabel opened the door quickly before she lost the nerve. Cullen was standing behind his desk, a small wooden box in the center of it. As Mabel walked closer, she saw the lid was engraved with an image of Andraste and had the letters CSR underneath that. Cullen looked up at her and smiled, straightening himself, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mabel braced herself again, “Cullen, did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?”

Cullen had a confused look on his face, “no. I fear I made few friends there.”

“No one… _significant_?” She pressed.

“Not in Kirkwall, no.” He answered firmly. Signaling that any further questions about that someone would not be tolerated.

“Interesting…” Mabel said quietly. Looking back up at Cullen to see a neutral look on his face. “I’m sorry I interrupted you, I’ll let you get back to…staring at your box.”

Cullen laughed slightly, “I actually need to speak with you for a moment. As leader of the Inquisition.”

Mabel sensed the shift in tone. Cullen was much more serious when he spoke now. “I’m all ears.”

“Right, thank you. As you know, Lyrium grants a Templar their abilities. It’s _extremely vital_ to the Order. But…it also controls us. Those that are cut off suffer, others die.” Cullen paused and flipped open the lid to the wooden box. It was his Lyrium kit. “We have, thankfully, secured a reliable source for the templars here.” He paused again to look Mabel in the eye, “But I no longer take it.”

“Cullen…is that… _when_?” Mabel asked, almost speechless.

“When I joined the Inquisition. It’s been months now,” he responded, looking past her gaze.

“This could kill you!” She almost shouted, getting angry that Cullen had hid this from her.

“And it **hasn’t** yet.” He said firmly, “after what happened in Kirkwall…I cannot. I will not be bound to the Order or that life any longer. Whatever suffering, _I accept it_.” He was almost shouting now, his fists balled. “But I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I’ve asked Cassandra to…watch me. However, if my ability to lead has been compromised… _I will be relieved of my duty_.” Cullen stood straight and looked into Mabel’s eyes again.

“I trust your judgment, and Cassandra’s. But know that you being relieved of duty is unlikely. I’ve never met another more capable than you. And Cullen…please…if this becomes dangerous or painful…come to me. I beg of you.” Mabel felt her heart tug towards Cullen, wanting to reach out and hug him.

“The Inquisition must always take priority, Mabel. Should anything happen, I will defer to Cassandra’s judgment.” Cullen responded stoically, ignoring Mabel’s offer for support.

Mabel looked down, “yes, Commander.” She responded and turned to leave.

“Mabel…” he began, moving around his desk. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I skipped this scene when I jumped ahead to the Chess scene. This is one of my favorites, especially considering the impact on Cullen. I tried to add it in without disrupting the plot too heavily.


	10. Night Patrol

After leaving Cullen’s office, Mabel retreated to the tavern for a drink and something to eat. It was loud and warm, the perfect thing to clear her mind. She saw Iron Bull in his normal corner with the Chargers around him, drinking and laughing. Mabel smiled in their direction and made a beeline for the bar.

“Ah, Mabel!” Someone shouted. Mabel looked around before noticing Varric’s red head below her. He was camped out at a table, a few soldiers around him with Wicked Grace cards laid in front of them. She smiled and sat across from the dwarf, “how the heck are ya?!”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Mabel replied, signaling to the barkeep for a tankard.

“Just barely,” he chuckled back. “I heard from a friend that your brother is coming to visit. Is Mr. Blondie just as much as a do-gooder as his baby sister?”

Mabel took a swig of the ale set before her, letting it burn her throat and eyes before she answered the dwarf. “He and I are not cut from the same cloth. Have I told you about my theory that I was adopted?”

Varric smirked, “there’s a black sheep in every clan, Ponytail. Guess that one is you.”

Mabel swallowed another gulp of ale, “are you going to deal me in, rogue?” She prosed, clearing the area in front of her for a round of Wicked Grace.

* * *

“Alright, blondie, I think its time you got up to bed.” Varric was trying to haul Mabel up off the bench, almost toppling over under her weight. Mabel had about four tankards of ale before she thought to eat something, but by then the alcohol had gone straight to her head.

“I think…I think you’re right…” she muttered, steadying herself before stepping away from the table. It took her a moment to get her balance, but she was somewhat steady. The edges of her vision were fuzzy and soft, but she was more than able to navigate her way to the door. Pushing it open with little difficulty, the night air slammed into Mabel like Iron Bull in his training gear. She hugged herself and set off to her bedroom. The yards were dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the soft footsteps of the guards patrolling the battlements.

The stairs that stretched up to the body of the castle seemed gargantuan, but Mabel began climbing them, her limbs jelly, and her balance a little off-kilter. As she began her climb, she heard voices coming down the stairs above her.

“If we send out another scouting party to the Western Approach, we may just be able to gain a better strategical understanding of Griffon Wing Keep, capturing that hold will cement our presence out there.”

It was Cullen, Mabel knew that deep voice well. Stern, yet encouraging. Mabel was unable to identify the responding voice, but she worked on fixing her balance before the Commander came across her.

“Inquisitor? What are you doing out this late?” Cullen asked when they reached the edge of the landing, now fully in view of the struggling Mabel.

Mabel looked up at Cullen who was now just a few steps above her, bringing her eye-level with his perfectly polished boots, “I’m just making my way to bed.” Mabel spoke slowly and clearly, hopefully hiding the ale on her breath. The last thing she needed was the entire army knowing she was getting slammed at the tavern every night.

“Ah, that will be all Rylen. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow morning,” Cullen said, moving down next to Mabel and waving the Knight-Captain away.

Cullen gripped Mabel’s upper arm, helping her up the stairs, “trying to keep up with Bull, were you?” He asked almost laughing.

“Nope,” Mabel shook her head, “Wicked Grace with Varric.”

Cullen laughed quietly and put his arm around Mabel, letting her lean into him. He smelled like cedarwood and soap. “Let’s get you upstairs and in bed before dawn breaks.”

“Oh, I’m all right,” Mabel assured herself, leaning deeper into Cullen’s grip, relying more on his weight to keep her balanced. Cullen didn’t leave her at the door to her quarters, instead he walked her up the stairs and into her chambers. Setting her down gently on the end of her bed, he kneeled in front of her to help unlace her tall boots.

“Oh, Cullen, I can do that. I really appreciate the assistance. I promise, I’m not _that_ stewed. Just a tad off balance.” Mabel reached down to her other boot.

Cullen slid her shoe off and Mabel silently thanked Andraste that her feet did not reek to high heaven. He smiled up at her, slipped her other boot off and helped Mabel stand. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I left a woman, half sloshed, to her own devices?”

Mabel smiled up at him, braced herself against his arms, and straightened herself. She hadn’t been this close to Cullen before, breathing his scent in. Mabel focused on his lips, still stretched into a smile. Leaning in slowly, she looked up into his eyes. Cullen stopped smiling, put one hand on Mabel’s cheek, and pulled her lips to his, lightly kissing her. Mabel smiled as they pulled back.

“Well, good night, Inquisitor.” Cullen said before turning to leave.

“Good night, Commander. And, thank you.”


End file.
